Page 111 of Game Misconduct
“Yeah.” My voice is still a little hoarse. “You?”
His mouth quirks. “Better now that I’ve seen you.”
I smile, but the weight of the day settles back on my shoulders.
The moment is over. The world’s creeping back in.
I turn toward my desk and start rearranging the mess we made. The pen that rolled off. The folder that nearly fell open.
The ownership binder I had out before he came in.
His voice comes softer now. “How was your day?”
I hesitate.
Tell him.
You should tell him.
But the words don’t come. Because once I say them, they’rereal. And he already has enough pressure without taking on mine too.
I settle for a shrug as I start packing up my stuff. “Shitty. Meetings. Nothing exciting.”
That’s a lie. But only by omission.
Because the board meeting was a mess.
I replay it like a silent reel in my mind as I straighten the files.
Dean had that smug look on his face the entire time. He’s gunning for a vote of no confidence if the team doesn’t hit Q1 performance metrics.
And I already know he’s talking to the legacy members behind my back.
“You don’t have the experience,” one of them said.
“You’re gambling with the franchise,” another warned.
I sat there in that glass-walled room with every credential I’ve ever earned stacked in front of me and still had to justify my ownership, my decisions, and Maddox’s contract like I was a teenager playing dress-up with Daddy’s checkbook.
They don’t see me.
They never will.
“Hey.” Maddox’s voice cuts through the memory.
I blink and turn.
He’s watching me, eyes narrowed slightly. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Just tired.” I force a smile. “It’s been a long day.”
He doesn’t look convinced.
But he nods.
Then his expression softens a little, mouth curving into something close to a smile. “You free tomorrow tonight?”
My brow lifts. “You planning another desk ambush?”
